It's really funny how people can feel safe in a theory, and think it's a belief. Especially when they are not directly affected.
I was in a church some years ago, and after the sermon, the pastor let this guy into the pulpit. This other guy had tattoos, long hair, and was clearly not an Oxbridge grad. The disapproval was instant. It was like the Holy Ghost had left the building. People who had been dancing and singing "Hallelujah" sat stiff, and actually sneering. Some probably thought the pastor had lost his mind ... and anointing. I was intrigued, not just by the hostility, but by the 'odd-looking' man in the pulpit. It wasn't because of the tattoos - those didn't bother me. I'd actually wanted to get one, many years ago, so I wasn't fazed by them (long story, don't ask). What bothered me were his eyes. They were piercing, and then he began to speak.
He introduced himself. And no, home boy & 'conventional' did not go together. He had the 'audacity' to call himself a Christian. By this time, some people were itching to leave. Then, he asked "How many of you here, are parents?" A fair number of hands went up. His next question was "If someone took your child, how many of you would give anything to get them back?" Same number of hands. His third question was "If I told you that I could get your kid back, would you care how I did it - even if you knew I might have to employ violence? How many of you would care, if I had to kill someone to get your baby back?" No hand went up. Odd. We were all conservative 'church people'. Nice, saved, sanctified, holy, and Spirit-filled. Surely, we could just pray and advise?
It turned out that he was from a charity, working to re-unite kidnapped kids with their parents, in a specific African country. These kids were typically kidnapped for use as sex slaves. Some of their limbs would also be amputated by the kidnappers. This man worked to get the kids back, and somehow I don't believe his 'negotiations' involved wearing suits, drinking tea at a conference table made of glass, and speaking in a posh accent. It was funny to see people who a few minutes before, would have sworn they would never do certain things - when the personal element wasn't there. Just a few more minutes, and the anthem of "Nothing but the best for my nearest and dearest, but the rest of the world can go to hell" would have started playing.
The reality is that until you are tested, you don't actually know what you believe. You can dress it up, 'cute-ify' it, and theorise about it any way you like. You can quote any part of the Bible you like. You can call it 'being nice'. Or 'having faith'. It's funny how man who claims that a woman who succumbs to a Caesarean Section is living proof of lack of faith ... until his own wife needs one. Or how some people are adamant that a woman who is being abused, 'should stay and fight for her marriage' ... until they visit their own sister, or daughter in hospital, because she's been beaten black and blue. And she's lost one eye.
I don't believe I fit the requirements for 'a nice person'. But I am realistic. I don't need to have my sister lying battered, bandaged, and broken before knowing that telling a woman to return to an abusive man, is not Christian behaviour. I am not afraid to ask certain uncomfortable questions. Or to take stances that some may find unpopular. I'm not afraid to bite back, on occasion. I will never forget that Sunday afternoon. I wasn't a parent, then. But there was no doubt that in my mind that if he had asked me, "If someone kidnapped YOUR child, would you care what I had to do to get them back?" my answer would have been swift.
Copyright©Chioma Nnani, 2013
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